Untitled
by RhymingWithSilver
Summary: He was broken. And I was going to fix him'. To Be Renamed.
1. Prologue: First Impressions

He was broken. I could see it the moment he walked in; someone had broken him. His soul was in pieces, his mind held together by a mere thread or two, and there was a massive hole in his chest, where his heart should be.

He was bordering on insanity; so far gone I saw it instantly.

And even though I wasn't any better off, I made my mind up there and then; I was going to fix him.

No matter how long it took, or how much effort or love it required, I would make him whole once more.

**A/N: Inspired by the 20****th**** chapter of Beautiful Disaster by Dlvvanzor, an L/Light thing I found. It didn't make me cry, because it made me too sad for tears. So yes, go read ALL of Dlvvanzors AMAZING work (have you guessed that I think she's bloody brilliant yet?), NOW!**

**Anyways... This is the prologue for a Matt/Mello (cause I'm a fangirl and no matter how hard I try, I either right this or L/Light) multi-chapter fic I just thought up. **

**Suggestions for a title, who should fix who (this feels like Matt POV to me, but then everything I'm writing seems to end up either Matt or niceMello POV. This WON'T be a niceMello fic. This will be a brokenbadassMello fic. So maybe Matt SHOULD do the fixing...), and where you think this is. Is it Wammys? Is it during Mello's mafia period when he calls on Matt's awesome hacker skillz? What do you think, cause its almost 1AM and my brains scrambled from a mixture too much Dlvvanzor, a couple of cups of coffee and too many Oreos too count. Because that is how I stay up; I take on an L diet and I try not to blink.**

**So, yes. You can tell it's late, for I'm rambling so much this A/N is longer than the prologue. Opps. **

**But anyway, please review opinions, and I'll try to think up a plot. (Knowing my luck, it'll probably come to me fully formed just as I fall asleep...)**

**A sugar-high RhymingWithSilver**


	2. 1: The First Happy Ending

My fingers were tapping buttons when the door opened, so I didn't look up at first. I presumed it was just a lost little kid, or a maybe lost newbie. So of course I jumped out my skin when he spoke.

"Matt?" It was my name, so I looked up, but it was also a question, so I pushed all thoughts of gaming from my mind and tried to formulate an answer, jumping up and heaving open the heavy wooden door, wincing when it creaked.

"What?" And what an answer it was... I gaped at the stranger standing in front of me, my sleep-deprived brain registering nothing but the fact that it was a boy, and he was blonde, and I'd never seen him before. Oh, and he was cute.

He didn't answer, merely stepping into my now dark room – it was almost two in the morning and my Gameboy had been my only source of light. But when another, significantly taller, person stepped in behind him, I leapt to my feet, realising it wasn't the blonde boy that had asked the question at all.

"L!" He was smiling. _Smiling_. Something was up, but I couldn't tell whether it was a good or bad thing. As good as I was at reading people, L was still a mystery.

"Matt." It was a 'hello', an 'it's been too long' and a 'how are you?', yet it was only one word. I gave him a look back, a good look, answering him in kind; nonverbally. When it came to people like me and L, we didn't need words.

"I'm second!" I didn't know why I was telling him; I didn't particularly care and I was positive he knew already. "Oh, and I beat Pokémon Red in under twelve hours." He smiled at that; that smile with his eyes, which only he could do.

"I do not know which should surprise me more." He paused, completed the sentence with his eyes; 'but I was surprised by neither', before speaking again. "This is Mello. Is it okay if he rooms with you?"

I looked back over to the blonde, who I could now name, taking in his appearance. How... _broken_ he looked. Turning back to L, I nodded, adding silently that I would try my best to fix him. We didn't often have these silent conversations, but with a stranger present, it was almost necessary. Almost.

"Mello, you shall be rooming with Matt then, unless you should prefer to have a room to yourself." Mello shook his head, walking over and dumping his small shoulder bag on what was now his bed, unzipping it and pulling out the few clothes. He was unpacking already...

L nodded, seemingly satisfied, before tipping his invisible hat at me then padding out the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him. I swallowed nervously, sitting on my bed again. I picked up my Gameboy, took one look at it and deemed it inappropriate for my post-L mood. I leant against the wall with a near-silent sigh, pulling open the drawer of my bedside table; fumbling around inside before my fingers wrapped around one of many bars of chocolate I wasn't supposed to have.

Withdrawing my hand and closing the draw, I unwrapped the chocolate bar, bit off a piece and placed my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it.

I stayed like that for a few minutes, subconsciously listening to Mello unpack, before I finally felt his eyes on me. I turned to look at him.

"What?" He was staring right at me, a look of disguised longing on his face. I stared back at him for a second, and then saw he was in fact staring at the chocolate bar I was still clutching. Looking at it, and then counting how many I had left in my head, I shrugged and threw it to him.

He caught it almost on reflex, and then stared at it for a few seconds, a strange expression on his face that made me wonder if he hadn't had chocolate before. I knew _I_ had, but then I'd been at Wammy's for a lot longer.

"Thanks..." It was a whisper, unwillingly given, but given anyway. I looked up quick enough to see the grateful look on his face, before he went back to unpacking, his hair hiding his face from view.

I turned my gaze back to the ceiling, letting my eyes unfocus, so the world became just an orange blur. And then I let myself dream, if you could call it dreaming.

I weaved stories inside my head, committing them to memory, editing and perfecting them. I didn't need to write them down; this way, no one I didn't want to read them, read them, for there was nothing to read.

My tales were usually of war, death and destruction, but today, for some reason, I wrote a happy ending.

**A/N: Short, sadly. But I couldn't think where else to end this... And I promise a much longer second chapter. It's almost twice as long, and only half written.**

**And I realise I'm happily writing Death Note whilst casually ignoring Letters To No One. Trust me, I know it's there, I'm trying to write more, but it's not working right now...**

**Every time I sit down to write, out comes either another Death Note drabble, or another poem. .**

**So yes, read this whilst I try my hardest, and consult my muse (Hannah, I know you're there, and I'd quite like your opinion, ideas, and ninja-what-not.) Bear with me, please!**

**(Oh, and do review. It makes me happy, and believe me, write now I**_** need**_** happy. So howabout dropping a little review, eh?)**

**Disclaimer: Death Note owns my soul, but I don't own Death Note. Fate hates me like that.**


	3. 2: That Damn Bar Of Chocolate

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. You'd be able to tell if I did.**

**-**

It was almost two by the time we reached the orphanage, and I expected a house of silence and darkness. But it was nothing like that. Not in the slightest.

As we walked through the quiet corridors, we passed many other children, and most stopped to greet L. Despite his obvious unapproachable nature, he got quite a surprising amount of hugs. Apparently genius either improves your ability to read people tenfold, or kills any self-preservation you may otherwise have.

And even though L had explained the basics of Wammy's on the journey here, I got the impression there was more to it; more he had yet to tell me. Maybe I had to work it out for myself.

-

I was surprised when L knocked on the door; I had thought I'd be given a room by myself. But when it creaked open, to reveal a goggle-wearing red-head that practically _radiated_ friend, I didn't mind so much anymore.

"L!" The boy beamed at my companion, and I felt like I was either being ignored, or hadn't been noticed yet.

"Matt." He didn't say much out loud, but he obviously didn't need to. I could tell they were close; close enough to have no need for words.

As they talked, I tried to make out the details of the room I was to stay in. I could see two darker shadows, which I presumed were beds, and a small halo of light, which must have escaped from around the curtains, but other than that it was just black.

"-Mello. Is it okay if he rooms with you?" My name caught my attention, and I tuned into the conversation again, feeling the redhead's eyes on me. He didn't say anything, and he wasn't in my line of sight, so I didn't see him nod, but he must have.

"Mello, you shall be rooming with Matt then, unless you should prefer to have a room to yourself." I almost asked for my own room, before I realised that someone who knew their way around would be useful, and besides, I liked this 'Matt'. So I didn't say a word, shaking my head instead.

I walked over to the bed, dropping my bag and starting to pull out the few clothes I had. I refused to let myself watch Matt as he near-fell onto the bed, but I couldn't help but notice, out the corner of my eye, when he pulled a bar of chocolate out of a drawer I couldn't see. My eyes widened.

He had _chocolate_!

I looked up, no longer pretending I wasn't watching him, but my hands carried on sorting out my possessions almost subconsciously.

He was staring at the ceiling, and I couldn't see his eyes for his goggles, but I could guess they were glazed over. If he was paying full attention to anything other than his thoughts, he would have felt me staring.

Then suddenly, he turned to look at me, and I didn't have time to look down again. So I diverted my gaze to his chocolate, letting a little of my longing seep into my expression.

"What?" There wasn't a hint of the annoyance I had expected in his voice, which surprised me. I didn't answer, merely watching as he realised I was staring at his food, not him. Not that I saw the realisation on his face or anything; his expression remained the same as he thought for a second, shrugged, then threw the chocolate bar to me.

I caught it almost on reflex, suppressing the urge grin and hug him, but then I remembered where I was, who this was, so I merely whispered my thanks. He looked up before I could look back down, and he must have caught the expression on my face, but he didn't say anything, so I resumed unpacking.

-

Once all my clothes were shut away in the oak dresser we shared, I turned back to the sparse items left on my bed.

There was my battered copy of the Bible, that I had had for as long as I could remember; the bracelet my brother had given me before we were separated, it was made of several pieces of wood with pictures of Jesus and Mary painted on, which were threaded onto a piece of worn string. The images were faded, and it was loose around my wrist, but it was all I had left of my family, and I kept it for sentimental value more than anything.

There was also three fiction books, all in my native tongue, German, and a small doll, made of white wool that was smudged grey with age. Its arms were linked together with a small chain, and it was wearing black-and-white striped clothes, like a prisoner's uniform. I had no idea where I got it, but I liked it.

And that was it. After spending two thirds of my life in various orphanages, I'd either lost, broken or sold most of my original possessions.

I slipped the bracelet on, the doll in my pocket and the books into the drawer of my bedside table.

Satisfied, I sat down on the bed, crossing my legs and staring at Matt.

"Where're you from, then?" I jumped when he spoke; I hadn't known he was aware of my presence. Also, he seemed to have crossed the boundary into personal almost immediately.

"Germany, originally." If he was being personal, I was being open. That was strange, for me. But then, it seemed nothing was normal around Matt.

He nodded, as if my answer proved something.

"Guessed as much." I frowned; my accent has long since faded.

"You did?" If I said much more, this conversation would be the longest I'd had with someone since before I could care to remember.

"The books are in German." So he was much more observant than I had given him credit for.

"What about you?" Enough about me, I decided. But then I regretted asking when I saw his mouth crease into a hard line.

"I'm English." His tone was the kind that ended conversations, and I hastily changed the subject.

"What rank are you?" Matt didn't answer, instead sitting up, mimicking my position. I could see his expression much better now he was facing me, so I saw the confusion on his face.

"Didn't you hear?" I shook my head slowly, feeling as if I'd missed something.

"Hear what?" And, with one simple sentence, this was now the longest conversation I'd had in too long.

"I told L just now; I'm second." He must have meant the conversation they had had earlier. I wasn't listening then, and I was barely listening now, so I almost missed what he actually said. And when it did register, I couldn't keep my mouth closed.

"_Second_?" Okay, so there was more surprise in my tone than I should have let escape. That wasn't meant to happen, but apparently it did. Lots of things happened that weren't meant to around Matt.

He shrugged, either not hearing my obvious shock, or hearing, registering and dismissing it.

"According to Roger, if I study, I could even beat Near." He shrugged again, as if this wasn't something he particularly cared for. My jaw hit the floor so hard, I was sure it would bruise. He wasn't looking at me, but he must have heard the thud, as he looked up.

"Is it really _that_ surprising??" I swallowed, trying to find the words that had been on the tip of my tongue a second ago.

"You just look like you don't give a shit, is all."

"I don't. As I said, I don't even study." His lack of reaction to my choice of words surprised me. He hadn't seemed the type to swear, but then he'd already proved my first impressions of him were off by quite a lot.

"So what do you do all day?" Yes, I was running out of things to talk about. But, for some reason even I didn't know of, I didn't want this conversation to end.

"Play video games, mostly." He shrugged, like he didn't really care for them, though I could tell it was a big deal. Which made me wonder why he'd chose to hide what was most likely all he had in the world. Was he more guarded than he first appeared?

"Don't you get bored?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p', and effectively ended the conversation. Well, my lack of questions to ask killed the conversation, but that's just a minor detail.

We sat opposite each other for a few, immeasurable moments, not exactly staring at each other, but not exactly looking away either, before he tore his eyes away and moved to grab some kind of handheld game.

As I watched, he lay down, turned the game on, and proceeded to smash the buttons, his eyes not exactly glazed over, but at least distracted. And after he didn't move for a good half hour, I gave up and laid down on my own bed, wondering to myself that, if I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, I'd be able to trick my brain into falling asleep.

When six finally rolled around, I hadn't slept a wink.

**a/n: argh, this took too long. apologies to anyone i've disappointed/kept waiting.**

**i just couldn't find anywhere to end it. first, i had to make sure it was clear that a mel/matty friendship was inevitable (i really should stop mentally comparing fictional characters to myself...), and then i wanted to get them talking. and then mello wouldn't **_**stop **_**talking. and then he wouldn't fall asleep without being cliché, or sounding cheesy.**

**editing this was like one massive facepalm. i rewrote the last few paragraphs way too many times.**

**and it's been written since friday. i had friends over for a two day sleepover, and we spent friday evening watching movies, saturday morning playing schools (our weirded out version of the game everyone used to play as kids. it's so much more fun when you know swear words!) saturday afternoon wandering around town, and this evening having a lost prophets rave. this was the first chance i got, i swear!**

**oh, and congrats to shego1142 for re-inspiring me. okay, so it's not the quiet ones, but it's something. i'm working on TQO, i promise.**


End file.
